


Only Human

by ZaliaChimera



Category: Zombies Run!
Genre: F/M, Season/Series 02 Spoilers
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-10-27
Updated: 2013-10-27
Packaged: 2017-12-30 15:09:58
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,617
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1020168
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ZaliaChimera/pseuds/ZaliaChimera
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Janine is the rock that holds them together, but even she is only human. A Simon and Janine story for Tumblr user BriarRose. </p><p>Spoilers for all of Season 2, especially S2 M26 and S2 M39.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Only Human

**Author's Note:**

> For Zombies, Write! II. Original prompt: Simon and Janine finding comfort in each other after Season 1  
> Mission 23 (or alternatively Season 2 Mission 26)

“Janine! Christ, Jenny!”

Simon bursts into the hospital, wincing at the sight of broken glass and upturned table and beds. The raiders had really done a number on the place in their search for the anti-zom chemical.

“Simon?”

Maxine looks up at him as she comes out of one of the side rooms, a frown on her face.

“Ah, Maxine. I'm looking for-”

“Janine. I know,” she says, smiling wryly at him. He gives her an apologetic look and shrugs helplessly. Everyone's on edge right now. Not surprising really. “She's in there,” Maxine continues, jerking her thumb towards the next room. “Insisted on waiting until everyone else had been checked out before she let me look at her.”

He can't help but smile, just a bit. That's his Jenny. Prickly and reserved, but she takes care of what's hers, her people. 

“How is she?” If they've hurt her too badly he'll... no, no, he does not need to think about that now.

“She needed a few stitches and I want to keep an eye on her for the next day or so in case there's any worse damage. I think she'll be fine though, Simon.”

He feels some of the tightly wound tension bleed out of him, his shoulders slumping. “Thank god for that. Christ, I didn't know if...” He rakes a hand through his sweaty hair. Hasn't even been for a shower yet, not while things are so confused. Not while he's still so worried.

There's a knowing look on the doctor's face, and she clasps his shoulder for a moment. “You can see her if you want,” Maxine says. “Keep an eye on her for me. Make sure she rests. I'll be in and out, checking on her.”

He brightens at that and gives Maxine a grateful look. “Yeah. Yeah, I can do that.”

“Great. I'm going to check on my office quickly. Make sure nothing else was taken.”

His insides feel frozen for a moment, but he smiles charmingly. “Probably a good idea, yeah. Oh, Maxine, if you ever need any help in the lab or whatever,” he adds, swallowing down the sick feeling that threatens to overwhelm him, “well, I've got a good eye and a steady hand if you know what I mean.” He rounds it off with a lascivious wink which makes Maxine laugh.

“Go check on Janine, Simon. I think she might appreciate your 'steady hands' more than I would.”

“Pity,” Simon replies with an easy smile which fades after a moment. “Thanks Maxine.”

“If you can keep her from from pushing herself too hard for the next day or two, I'll owe _you_.”

“I'll see what I can do.”

She nods and heads over towards her office. The door is really a curtain but it gives the illusion of privacy. Simon lets out a slow breath to help compose himself. He's so not cut out for this. His heart's barely stopped pounding since the bandits started chasing them. 

He turns and knocks softly on the door before entering. Janine's facing the other way, her back bared, purpling bruises starting to spread. Hand prints where they must have grabbed her. Other scuffs and scrapes. She turns when he shuts the door, looking over her shoulder at him as she reaches for her shirt.

There's a gash on her head, up near the hairline, hair still matted with blood and dark stitches running through the wound. She looks pale, which is strange to see on someone normally so aggressively healthy. “Simon. Am I needed somewhere?”

He gives her a lopsided smile and shakes his head. “No. I just came to check on you.”

She rolls her eyes and turns away, starting to try to pull her shirt on. She moves stiffly and after a moment he steps up to help. She lets him. That tells him enough about what kind of state she's in. “Doctor Myers asked you, I assume.”

“She might have hinted.”

“I am _fine_ Simon.”

He helps her slide her arms into the shirt, then steps around to face her. “Great. Then you can properly enjoy a day of work to recuperate.”

“I do _not_ need time to recuperate, Simon. I have work to do. More work now. I need to assess how much damage was done and...”

“Jenny. Stop,” Simon says, resting his hands against her shoulder and leaning in. “You were held hostage, knocked out. You- you had to get _stitches_ Jenny. It can wait until tomorrow.”

She fixes him with a fierce look and draws herself up to her full height which is pretty effective actually, despite her being a good few inches shorter than him. “Mr. Lauchlan. In case you have forgotten, we were attacked. Hostiles made their way into our base, into our _homes_ and who knows what they took or destroyed.” She takes a deep breath, looking off to the side, and she always meets his eyes. Always. “And it happened on _my_ watch, Simon.”

He reaches up to touch her cheek only to have her pull away from him. She wraps her arms around herself in a way that's more defensive than impatient or annoyed, and that worries him. He drops his hands back to his sides, looking at her sympathetically. “Janine, it's not your fault.”

“Of course it isn't _just_ mine. Mr. Yao and I will be having words. But I am in charge. It all rests on me and I- it is-”

“It's my fault,” Simon says bluntly, a little too quick. 

Janine gives him a sharp look, eyes narrowed, and for a moment it's all there, every damning word right on his lips. She'd shoot him probably, or lock him up at the very least, and maybe that would be better than this whole, awful charade.

He gives her a pained smile. 

“We should have known better,” he says, the moment passing, and it aches in his chest. “Me and Five. We should've turned away and headed for New Canton as soon as we realised we were being followed. I panicked, I guess.”

Janine's expression softens and the part of him that had wanted her to realise and call him on the lie _sinks_. “You weren't to know,” she says, and he hates that he's made a liar out of her. “It's hardly anything that you've been trained for, after all. Living people on horseback are quite different from the undead.”

“Yeah,” he says lamely, “I suppose they are.”

“I will however still be having words with Mr. Yao about his actions. What he did was reckless and irresponsible.”

Simon smiles disarmingly and reaches out to take her hand and this time she lets him. “Don't be too hard on him, Jenny. He's a kid who's lost too many people. He was never cut out for this kind of life.”

“Nonetheless,” Janine begins and Simon raises her hand to his lips, kissing her knuckles.

“I can't say I wouldn't've done the same thing, Jenny, if it'd been you outside the gates,” he says, and there's a flicker of _something_ across her expression, guilt that no-one would notice if they hadn't spent as much time as he has around her.

“I would never ask anyone here to do something that I would be unwilling to do myself. I do not ask for any special treatment.”

“That isn't what I was saying,” Simon replies, huffing a soft laugh.

“Oh,” Janine says, deflating slightly, “well then.”

“Sit down Jenny!” he says, tugging her back to the cot that serves as a hospital bed and coaxing her down. “I just meant that, well, I'm not as disciplined as you are. Obviously. Not as strong. I don't think I could do it.” Just a weak mortal man. 

“Oh Simon.” Her hand slides along the length of his arm to his elbow, tugging him down for a brief kiss, her tongue teasing against his lips until they part. He cups her cheek with his free hand, leaning in towards her. They part finally and he rests his forehead against hers.

“I'm sorry,” Janine says. “I have my duties and they come above all else.” And god Simon is glad that they do, that he can't use her like he'd used Five and Sam. “For what it's worth,” Janine continues, “If I could have let you back in-”

“You would've,” he finishes, thumb stroking against her cheek lightly. “No-one's gonna blame you for doing your job, Jenny. God knows you've saved our lives. Pretty sure I'd've gone grey months ago if not for you.” All that time out in the wilds of the UK until he'd found Abel. A home. 

“My uncouth, malodorous houseguests,” she says dryly. It makes Simon laugh. She's got a sharp wit when she wants to use it. Janine reaches up to push her hair back out of her face, and grimaces when she encounters drying blood which flakes off on her fingers. “Ugh. I _should_ check whether the showers are working.”

“Let me help,” Simon says. There's water stored in the hospital at least, and a kettle to boil it with. He's sure that Maxine won't begrudge them making use of it. It _will_ keep Janine from working herself half to death. At least for a few minutes. 

“Simon, there's no need to-”

“I want to,” he replies, finding a clean bit of cloth to use. “It's the least I can do,” he adds, a heartfelt apology for so much more than she realises.

She looks at him for a long moment before giving a small smile. “Very well. If your guilty conscience is bothering you, I should give you a chance to make up for your sins.”

“Careful now,” Simon replies, flashing her a smile as he pours the hot water into a bowl, dropping the cloth into it. There's some water that must've been boiled earlier and he pours a bit of that in to cool it down, then picks up the bowl and goes back to her side. “You know that I was raised Catholic. All this talk of penance. I might start thinking you're coming on to me.”

 

“Maybe I am,” Janine says, a smile playing about her lips.

“Oh well, in that case...” Simon says, letting the words trail off. He grins back at her and settled on the cot at her side. He squeezes most of the water from the cloth and sets about trying to clean away the blood from her hair. And if his hands linger a little longer than necessary, well, Janine doesn't protest. It's a quiet moment, gives them both some time to breathe and sort themselves out. 

“In some ways, I almost envy Mr. Yao,” Janine says softly.

Simon's hand falters, and he pulls back, raising an eyebrow at her. “I'd better go get Doc Myers back in here. They must've hit you harder than she realised.”

She scowls, back straightening. “If you're just going to mock then-”

He holds up his hands in apology. Red-tinged water drips from the cloth in his hands to stain the sleeve of his running top. “Sorry. Go on. I'll be good.”

“Better,” she says, her lips tightly pressed together and Simon resumes while she gathers her thoughts. “While his actions were monumentally foolish and put our lives and the existence of Abel in jeopardy, I, upon occasion, envy that he does not need to focus so entirely upon the bigger picture.”

Simon just looks at her for a moment, unable to hide his curiosity. “What are you getting at here, Jenny? I'm a gym rat. You might have to spell it out,” he adds with a wink.

Janine snorts softly, giving him a wry look. “You aren't half so stupid as you would have everyone believe, Simon. I don't know why you do it. I find intelligence rather attractive.”

“Less chance of disappointing, if everyone thinks you're hopelessly superficial,” Simon says, giving a dismissive shrug. “You see right through me anyway.”

“I wonder sometimes,” Janine says. There's something fond in her expression when she looks at him. It makes guilt and triumph and affection war inside him. Monster. He's a monster.

She shakes her head. “In any case, what I was trying to say was that I occasionally wish that I found it as easy as Sam does to put personal matters first. They've always been my secondary concern, if that. I have my orders, my duties. Perhaps I wonder what might have been different had that not always been the case.”

He meets her eyes, just looking at her for a moment. “You're not usually one for regrets Janine.”

She inclines her head in agreement and Simon reaches for a clean bit of cloth to dry her hair off with, patting it gently to get rid of the water. It's an ugly looking thing that gash. The stitches make it look worse. She could have died. Strongest person he knows and she could have been as dead as any of them. 

“I'm only human, Simon.” Janine said, reaching up to touch his hand.

“We all are,” is his response, bitter like ash on his tongue. “Life's too short for regrets though.”

“Perhaps,” she says looking pensive. “I try be decisive in my choices for that reason. However...” She falls silent for a moment and for her that's a pretty big sign that something's bothering her. Simon keeps up with what he's doing, gives her time to sort it out, if she's even gonna speak with him.

“Ah, foolishness,” she says eventually, giving a soft, self-depreciating laugh and the intimacy is gone. She's Janine again, Abel's unswerving, incorruptible leader.

“Maxine wants to keep checking on you,” Simon says, putting some distance between them when he goes to empty out the water. “She's worried about a concussion, head injury and all.”

“Yes, I am aware. It's very tiresome but better safe than sorry I suppose.” 

Simon snorts, giving her an amused look. “Tiresome. One way of putting it. Invasion, gaping head wound. Damn inconvenience.”

“Indeed, Simon,” she replies with that dry humour he's so used to. “An inconvenience that will not be repeated. I shall ensure it.”

“I'm sure it won't happen again. More than enough excitement for anyone.” And he has what he needs. His back's turned so she doesn't see the guilt that he can't quite hide. He turns around suddenly, plastering a grin on his face and he's amazed she doesn't see how false it is. “Look, you might be here for a while. Anything I can get you from the farmhouse? I could pick up your rations for you or...”

“A book, I think,” she says after a moment's thought, and there's a teasing look on her face that makes him smirk in response. “If I am to be here all night and kept from my work then I can think of worse opportunities to catch up on my reading.” 

He might have teased more normally. Maybe it's weird that he doesn't. But there's a lead weight in his stomach and he desperately needs some air. He gives a nod. “A book it is. I'll even read it to you if y'want.”

She looks a little taken aback at the offer, but smiles. “That might be pleasant. Yes.”

He cleans his hands, watching the flecks of her blood wash off in the water and he's heading to the door when she speaks again. It's quiet, almost an afterthought, but he knows he was meant to hear it.

“I would have regretted not opening the gate for you.”

He just pauses in the doorway for a moment, frozen by her words, and he doesn't turn around before he walks away.


End file.
